Produced by Al Haines.
Cover]
"I have counted the cost."]
A TALE OF RED PEKIN
BY CONSTANCIA SERJEANT
AUTHOR OF "A THREEFOLD MYSTERY," "THE YOUNG ACROBATS," ETC., ETC.
LONDON MARSHALL BROTHERS KESWICK HOUSE PATERNOSTER ROW E C 1902
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER.
I. Cecilia's Story II. The Letter from Pekin III. The Rising in the Village IV. Cecilia continues her Story V. A Terrible Walk VI. Nina's Story VII. A Painful Discovery VIII. Taken Prisoner IX. A Discovery X. A Daring Attempt XI. Mr. Li's Wonderful House XII. They Wandered in Dens and Caves of the Earth
CHAPTER I.
CECILIA'S STORY.
I can remember quite well when we all came to China. It is four yearsago, and I was eight years old, and you can remember when you are three,so father says. I am twelve now, and I feel quite grown up, that isbecause I am older than any of the others. Most people call me prim andold-fashioned, but mother says I am her right hand. Rachel is the nextto me, but she is in a different generation almost, only nine years old,and quite a child. Then there is Jack, he is eight, and Jill, she isseven. Jill is not her name really--they all have Bible names--but wecall her that because she and Jack are such friends, and always doeverything together. Then there is Tim, he is only five years old, andlittle baby Anna. Baby Anna is so lovely, and the Chinese women arevery fond of her. She has dark eyes, and rings of dark hair all overher head; but somehow she does not look like other children. Shesmiles, and yet she has a solemn look: that rapt look that the cherubshave, like pictures of the Blessed Lord Himself when He was a littlechild. Father says so sometimes, but mother does not like it. I nevercan think why, but she looks so sad, and once I saw her brushing sometears away. I think really, though I have never told anyone else, thatmother is afraid baby Anna will not live. I heard the servants talkingone day, and nurse said she was sure the baby would never live to growup.
The Chinese women love her so much, they would like to bind her feet;they think it spoils us all, having such large feet--at least, those whoare not Christians do, and even the others--well, it is just the veryhardest thing in the world for them to have the bandages taken off theirfeet, but for the love of Christ they take them off at last, and thenthey are baptized--father never will baptize them until the bandages aretaken off.
The Chinese are dreadfully, dreadfully cruel, and very cunning anddeceitful, but father says they make splendid Christians. You see it'snot a bit the same as it is in England--they have to go through suchdreadful persecution if they become Christians; they have to give upeverything for the sake of Christ's love, and you love a person far, farmore if you feel you can give up everything, even life itself, for theirsake.
When we first came to Cheng-si there was not a single Christian here,and the people did not like us much, but father and mother were so kind,and did so much for them when they were sick, that they got accustomedto us, and now they come from all parts, for miles around, to be healed.
You see, father is not like an ordinary Missionary, he is a doctor, too;he reminds me more of the Lord Jesus than anyone I have ever seen: hegoes about doing good and healing the sick--he has such a beautifulexpression. I have not seen many men, and I do not know exactly whetherhe is what people call a handsome man, I rather think not, but it iswhen he is healing the sick and speaking to them that there is thatlight on his face which makes me think of what is said about St. Stephenin the Acts: "They saw his face as it had been the face of an angel."
Uncle Lawrence is quite different: he is a soldier, every inch of him, agood soldier of Jesus Christ too. I have heard mother say so many times,and it is that which makes him such a good soldier of the Queen. Shesays the best soldier is the Christian soldier, and that very few peoplewould contradict that now, because of Lord Roberts; and then there isGeneral Havelock, and Sir Henry Lawrence, and a host of others. ButUncle does not look like father, and he does not speak much; you knowwhat he is by his life more than by what he says. He has only onechild, her name is Nina--Nina is three years older than I--she is mybosom friend. I never in my life saw anyone so wonderful as Nina, oranyone half so pretty; Nina is tall and dark, she has beautiful eyes,not at all like baby's, but more like wells of water, where the sunbeamslie; one can never be sad with Nina, she is so bright and sunshiny, likeher laughing eyes; she loves me, too, dearly, and calls me St. Ceciliabecause I am so grave and old beyond my years.
Nina and Uncle Lawrence are always together, and she is the pet of theregiment--yet she is not spoilt. I have not known her long, only sincethe troubles began in China, and since they have been in Wei-hai-wei,which is about one hundred miles from this place; but our love for eachother grew up mushroom-like in a few hours. She says she cares for memore than for any other girl. We write such long letters to each other,and when we meet she tells me stories about the officers, especiallyone, Uncle Lawrence's greatest friend.
We do not get the news here very fast, as we are quite in the country,but Nina wrote me a long letter yesterday from Pekin, where they arenow, and told me what dreadfully cruel things the Chinese had done. Sheoverheard a conversation between Uncle Lawrence and Colonel Taylor.Uncle Lawrence was talking of the risk of being captured, and of theawful peril which so many unprotected Europeans were in--it is far worsethan death, for they torture people for days before they kill them.
"They should never capture anyone who belonged to me," said the Colonel,sternly, and he just touched his pistol with a meaning look.
Nina said her father went as white as death; she guessed what waspassing through his mind. How could he kill Nina? Would it be right ifit came to the worst, and to save her from a lingering death of agony?I told father, and asked him what he thought; for all the Europeans, soit seems, have resolved to kill their dearest and die, rather than fallinto the hands of the Chinese. But father--well, father has such astrong, beautiful faith, he does not blame those who would do this, butfor himself and for us--I know how he loves us--there were tears in hiseyes as he spoke; still, he said he would not feel justified in doingthis--he must leave it all with God, and He will take care of His own.I know what it cost father to say this, because I know what we are tohim; but I also know that nothing, nothing would ever make him do whathe would not think quite right: he does not blame others, but forhimself it is different.
He and mother walked up and down for hours last evening, and part of thetime I was with them, for they often take me into their confidence, andthat is why I am so old for my years, I expect--the eldest in a largefamily generally is, they say; all father's thoughts were for mother.
"Oh, my dearest," he said--I think they had forgotten me--"I never lovedyou so well, and yet I am full of regret when I think of that quietRectory where you might have been now if it had not been for me. Do youremember it, the first time I saw you? I can see it all again: theRectory garden, the old-fashioned grey stone house, shadows slantingover the lawn, and underneath the trees you were standing, the onlyyoung thing there, shading your eyes with your pretty hands; you werevery much like our St. Cecilia, and I saw in a moment, beyond the merebeauty of your face, the Divine touch there, and I knew you were one ofthe Lord's dear children, and my heart went out to you, and I claimedyou in my spirit then and there as my helpmeet, the woman whom God, inHis love, had chosen for me. But if I had
known what a future I waspreparing for you, my beloved, I would never have spoken."
"A dear future," mother answered, gently clasping his arm with both herhands. "Would I have had it any different?"
"Yes, but, my darling--well, this news has unnerved me--Boxers are likedevils possessed, and, if they should get hold of you and thechildren----"
And I saw father shudder; I had never seen him like this before: hisfaith had always been so strong, and now he seemed quite unnerved.
"They will not," said mother, calmly, and her eyes were soft with unshedtears, and yet had that patient, steadfast look the martyrs have. "Butif there is trouble in store for us, oh! my dear husband, I would nothave had it any different. God has been so good to us: we have been sohappy, so happy together, there is nothing to regret; it was all orderedby a Divine love which never makes any mistakes; and it will be allordered now," and she laughed a little to make him laugh, I think. "Oh!Paul, fancy my turning comforter!"
"Yes, darling," he replied, hurriedly, "I am ashamed of myself, and,more than all, ashamed of my lack of faith. What is our faith worth ifit cannot stand this test? His strength is small indeed who faints inthe day of adversity. God remains; He is over all, arranging every stepof the way, and I can leave even _you_ in peace now with this thought."And then I heard father say, and his face, which had been so wan anddrawn before, was now radiant and bright: "'Thou wilt keep him inperfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee; because he trusteth inThee.'"
But I crept up to bed and thought what dreadful news that must be tomake father look and speak as he had done that evening.